An Oregonian Student in King Uther's Court
by PippinStrange
Summary: Pippin Strange—that's me—goes to Camelot. Not your typical FIFF, that is, falling into fanfiction, as I was unjustly and magically turned into a horse. Humor and adventure await you. Brought to you by the author of Strange Things Happen in Libraries with Dr. Pepper! Not a Mary Sue, just lots of fun. R
1. A Horse is a Horse of Course

**An Oregonian Student in King Uther's Court**

By Pippin Baggins

Strange Things Happen when you FIFF—falling into fan fiction. This time, adventures await Pippin—that's me—in Camelot. Shameless self-insert. Humor and adventure await you. NOT A MARY SUE ;)**

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**Chapter One**

**A Horse is a Horse of Course if Not a Girl, Enchanted.**

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"In a land of myth, and a time of magic… the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young boy. His name… was Merlin."

I stare opened-mouthed with anticipation over my laptop. This is me, in college. I finally finished writing my history and theater assignments, and so I settled down to watch a few episodes of Merlin. Every time the show begins, I feel tempted to recite the words of the introduction. They are simple, yet loaded. I sit perched on my bed, cross-legged, under a strand of Christmas lights. The walls are decorated with my drawings, snapshots of friends, colored pages from coloring books, calendar cutouts of tropical paradises, and a big poster of the film festival that I acted in. I shamelessly eat peanut butter right out of the jar with a spoon, and rest my feet atop textbooks.

In the middle of an episode—Merlin saving Arthur's life _again, _yadda yadda—I heard a strange thumping sound from the living room. Knowing I was home alone, and thinking that the sound was eerily similar to one of a person dragging a body bag across carpet, (cahn't 'elp et, I'm morbid!) I slipped from my tall bed to a stool, and from the stool to my floor, (don't laugh. I am extremely short for 20 years old and need a boost for everything) and ventured to my door. Listening with fear in my stomach, I grasped the knob and pulled it gently open.

Outside my door, there should have been a hallway and a closet.

Outside my door, there was a grassy meadow betwixt tall pine trees bathed in sunlight. Beyond the trees was a bluff, going down to blank sky, and then the shore of a lake. Wild flowers were almost at my feet, peaking into my room with pink and blue.

I shut my door, and opened it again. Yep, still there.

I glanced at my laptop—paused, showing a frozen scene of knights on horseback somewhere in the woods outside Camelot. The meadow that they stood about in looked very familiar indeed. For a moment, I danced around in a circle, squealing.

_Get a grip, Pip. _

I left my door open and rushed to my closet. If I have time to prepare, why not BE prepared? Usually I'm just _sucked _into magical worlds without a chance to grab a pocket handkerchief… or, you know, a toothbrush. Other necessities.

I opened my backpack and shoved in a toothbrush, toothpaste, and toiletry baggie. Then I threw in a pair of jeans and sweatshirt. I stuck an apple, (I also usually have two or three of these sitting on my desk) chap-stick, a thin blanket (nicknamed Dead Elmo—don't ask) and lastly, my travel-sized sketchbook and pencil.

At the last minute, I realized that if I looked too different—I'd be mistaken as a foreigner and… oh, you know, beheaded by Uther or something horrible like that. _Well, no way mister. I shall outsmart them._

Now, you are probably wondering why a college student like me would even _have _anything in her closet that could pass for a TV medieval genre. I'll put it to you this way—my friends and I are the type of people to make random movies, music videos, dress up for a night on the town, or do crazy photo-shoots. So I keep a supply of costumes on hand at all times, collected over years from closet raids, goodwill trips, and thrift store sales.

I pulled out my favorite; a long, red velvet dress with an empire waistline—originally meant to be used for a Moulin Rouge performance with a friend—and a long black dress (that one was Spartan goddess costume) and shoved the black one in the bag. I slipped the red one over my pajama shorts and tank top, zipped it up, and shoved my feet into cowgirl boots. It's a huge fashion blunder, but they were the only boots I had. There was no way I was going to venture into a fantasy world in anything but boots, and the dress is too long to show them anyway.

Lastly, I grabbed the little Red Riding Hood cloak (perfect for both elves, Narnians, Those-We-Don't-Speak-Of, and Snow White) and put it on. The reds clashed but _who freakin cares? I'm going to Caaaaamelot, I'm going to Caaaamelot!_

With a hop of glee I scampered back to my doorway and stepped through.

…

There was an instant change from muggy house-smell to clean, crisp, springtime. The woods were blossoming in warm air, cool breezes, shaking leaves and the freshness wafting in droves from the lake just beyond the tree line. I stepped into the soft, ankle deep grass, put my backpack over my shoulders, and took the deepest breath I could.

Oh sweet air, why can you not exist in the ice of February from where _I'm _from?

I turned a 360, taking in the tallness of the pines and the peak of a mountain somewhere behind me. The air itself felt magical—I knew it'd be hard to leave when the time came. (There ARE rules, you know. Fiffers are never allowed to stay.)

I noticed a thin column of smoke drifting out from the trees, near the direction of the mountain. It looked like it was less than thirty yards away. Walking around the opening of my door, (finding nothing but grass and tress behind it) I shouldered the pack and headed off in its direction.

After leaving the meadow, I was under a canopy of green sunshine and crunchy undergrowth. I tried to walk quieter as I climbed over logs, until I finally reached a large boulder. I peered around it and saw some knights gathered around a fire. They were alert, and listening, yet talking quietly amongst themselves.

I realized Prince Arthur was at his horse's side, adjusting the saddle girth. Maybe I had interrupted a hunting party?

"Remember, men," Prince Arthur said suddenly, turning around. "Don't hesitate. We're dealing with a very powerful sorceress. If you see red, just shoot. No one else would be out here."

_Red? SHOOT? Why are they trying to kill me, I haven't done a darn thing._

I turned as quietly as I could, and begin to tiptoe away from the edge of their campsite. Maybe I could find a place to change into the black dress…

"Where is Merlin?" called Arthur's voice.

"Fetching wood, sire."

"He'll give our position away if he wanders too far. I _do _hope he won't be an idiot and trigger Nimueh to our location."

_Nimueh?_ That still puts me somewhere in season one—when Arthur is his crankiest. _Great. Or maybe nearer to the beginning of season two, when he has improved a little. Let's hope for the latter._

I decided to try and find a place to change into the black dress. I'd stuff all the red clothes in my backpack and then return to the witch-hunting party. I'd do something clever—like sing an old Celtic tune from several hundred yards away—so they would hear me and maybe come find me themselves. (I'm less likely to get shot that way. And I'm sure I couldn't possibly find Camelot on my own.)

As I walked back through the trees and finally stepped into the meadow, I heard a curious kind of laugh from the trees. It was so light and secretive that I thought I imagined it. I looked for the source, and finally noticed a feminine shape stepping amongst the tall brushes that a sort of hedge between the tree line and the lake.

"Hello?" I said shakily.

Nimueh stepped out of the brush fully, in a deep red dress that looked as if it had been through a shredder. "Who are you?" she said, and I could see she really meant it. Apparently she didn't foresee _me _showing up.

"My name is Pippin," I said automatically. The penname lie was so deeply embedded in my brain that it wasn't even a lie anymore, rather just an extension of me. "I regret to say I'm a little bit lost. Who are you?"

"My name is Nimueh," said the beautiful witch, kindly. There was always a part of me that believed she could be a sympathetic character. I always liked her—just a little bit—after an episode where she accused Uther of his betrayal against her 'kind'.

"I'm sorry," I said, "Do you know where we are?"

"You _are _very lost," she commented.

"I don't have a map or a sense of direction," I admitted.

"Are you not a spy?" her tone grew sharp, and her big eyes flashed with a hint of cruelty. "Bait for Prince Arthur's trap?"

"I'm not a spy. I don't even know Prince Arthur. What trap?"

Nimueh smiled, the corners of her mouth stretching to a kindly length but the quiver of her chin seemed to imply rage or something of the sort.

"Please, I'm just a very helplessly lost person. Are you lost too?" I asked desperately.

"Follow me," Nimueh beckoned with a finger and stepped back into the tree line, out of the meadow, and into a bit of shadow.

I shuffled after her, pushing into the bushes and moving aside branches. I now stood on the edge of a short precipice, a little sandy cliff that went straight down for about four feet. At the bottom lay the shore of the lake, wet, rocky, and dark with brown sand. The lake's cool air brought hushed whispers of winter alongside, still gripping breezes from the season before in its clutches. I could feel the chill as I hopped awkwardly down the drop-off and stood on the beach.

Nimueh had stopped at the waters edge, looking at the view of the green, dank waters, and the giant snow-capped mountains on the opposite shore.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked.

"Poor creature. You've done no harm, poor, stupid girl that you are. But I cannot let you tell Arthur's men where you found me," Nimueh said, throwing her hand towards me. "_Equites esse ipse ad hoc fuga_!"

First thought? _OH NO._

Second thought? _Am I going to throw up?_

Third thought: _I've got four legs._

…

I'm a horse, and Nimueh is gone. Gone in a flash of smoke, or nothing.

I'm a horse, and Nimueh is gone. Invisible, disappeared.

_Um. I'm a horse. _

My backpack lies on the ground beside me—or, way, way below me. Is this what it is like to be tall? (well, and four-legged?)

I test one leg. It stretches out, and I can see a hoof. I make a sigh of disgust and it just sounds like I'm blowing my nose. I try out my other leg, and it's just as bad as the first.

My belly has never felt so round and empty in my life!

_I am doomed. I am so unbelievably doomed. And, I'm a chocolate color. Definitely the best. _

I try to take a step, and my whole body shifts forward when my back two legs take steps as well. How does one go about controlling all four of them?

I hopped awkwardly forward, my hooves sliding on the sand a little. I try to look right, and left, and find I don't really need to turn my head. When I try to look straight ahead, there is a bit of a problem—my forehead is in the way.

I flick my hair to the side and take another few steps. _I can do this. It just takes concentration. Step one, step two. Step three—gallop? Maybe it's too soon. _

I began to canter, and found that felt more natural than anything else. It was a brisk pace, I felt strength emanating through my shoulder and hind muscles.

I tried to cry, "Oh yeah, I'm gallopin' like a STEED, BABAY!" but all that came out was a fluffy woosh of air through my nostrils and a high-spirited whinny.

_Why couldn't I at LEAST have been a talking horse?_

I whirled about, noting that my behind took up a lot more room than it used to. I very nearly slipped, and began to shuffle—er, trot—back to my bag on the ground.

Then I stepped on a sharp rock.

I didn't even think that a rock felt too painful, especially if one is an animal. I've got hooves—it's like, feet of steel, right?

But oh no, I felt that rock. Oh how I did feel it. It was like a strike of electricity up into my ankle, weakening all the muscles that I had just gained. I stopped walking and tenderly lifted my foot, unwilling to put any pressure on it. Why, am I a very pathetic creature indeed! AND I AM A HORSE.

My mind was unable to comprehend the thought completely, and I really just wanted to SAY something, anything. I guess I never appreciated the ability to speak until it was gone.

I heard a faint rustle in the bushes at the trees. When I heard it, I felt my long point ears shift in that direction to gain a better sense of it. Focusing my ears back, I could hear the rustling much clearer. I could also smell a person.

_Fancy that, smelling a person simply because they are HUMAN, not because it's after fitness class and everyone is sweaty. _

Merlin, the boy wizard, stepped out of the trees with a look of pleasant surprise on his face. "Hello there," he said kindly, sliding down the bank and approaching me, hang outward, palm up. "Are ya lost?"

My eyes must have been very wide, and large indeed, with the shock that I was feeling. What if Merlin tried to keep me? How long would I be stuck as his personal transportation?

Forgetting about the rock, I stepped forward, winced (at least my mind winced, that's typically a human expression) and lifted my hoof up with the most sorrowful look I could muster.

"Oh, poor thing, got somethin' wrong with your foot, eh? I'll get it out." Merlin walked to my side and patted my neck. _Why don't you just hug me, wizard-boy!_

Leaning down, he took the pressure off my foot—er, hoof—by lifting it up, finding the rock stuck too close to the frog (the frog is the little V shape in the center of a hoof) and plucking it out.

I grinned with relief, but my face contorted into such an expression that Merlin straightened back up and looked at me with a worried expression.

"Where did you come from?" he mused to himself.

_From my magical doorway, duh. _

Merlin noticed my backpack then, and rushed to it, picking it up. "You belong to someone," he noted out loud. "Where is your rider?" he began looking around, calling out, "Hello? Hello?"

I stood there awkwardly, having a sudden urge to use my completely giant nose to sniff the salty sea-grass growing between a log and a rock. I resisted, and instead found a smooth patch of sand. _Perfect. _

I dragged my hoof through the sand to draw a line. Then another. Then I used my nose to brush a line, connecting the two.

H.

I used my nose for three more horizontal lines, and my hoof to drag a forth vertical.

E.

"What're you doin, horse?" Merlin said with a chuckle, picking my backpack up and putting it over his shoulder. "There aren't any apples under that sand, I can promise you—"

He stopped short, disbelief forming an O with his mouth.

L.

"Is that… letters?" he finally said.

P.

"HELP?" Merlin repeated. "Help! Help? Is that what that says? Can you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded emphatically. It looked like a circus pony just playing a trick, but he knew I could understand what he was saying. I wouldn't put it past Merlin to be naïve enough to accept that this horse was really a girl stuck in a horse's body. Good thing it's true.

"Wait, why—look at me for a moment," Merlin asked.

I shifted my giant back end (and those two extra legs and tail back there) around and stood squarely before him.

"Nod yes, stamp your hoof for no," Merlin said sternly. "Do you understand?"

I nodded again and blew another raspberry. _I think raspberry's are my favorite._

"Are you Nimueh?" he asked.

I stomped my hoof so hard that a spark flew out from the smooth rock it landed on.

"Do you know who Prince Arthur is?"

_Who doesn't? But that is not a yes or no question. I'm a stranger here, duh. _I simply shifted from side, to side, swishing my tail and trying to give him the answer with my face.

"Well, probably not as well as I do," Merlin sighed. "Alright—do you know that we are hunting Nimueh right now?"

I nodded yes.

"Did you see her?"

I nodded exuberantly, prancing a little in place.

Merlin finally got it. "Did she enchant you?"

I not only nodded but let out a "YES! THAT'S IT!" which turned into a giant whinnying whuffle.

"Merlin, are you talking to a HORSE?" said the taunting tone of Arthur. Arthur and his knights were clambering down the embankment with concerned looks on their faces. They'd probably all heard stories from Arthur about how incapable and weird Merlin was.

"Yes, yes, Sire," Merlin said hastily, a worried look crossing his face. "May I speak with you in private, please?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, Merlin, you MAY," he scoffed, "Stay back by the trees," he told his knights. They sighed and stepped back, and Arthur seemed to walk with pride even as he just walked a few yards to Merlin's side. "What is it, Merlin?" he said in a kinder, but more tired tone. "This had _better _be important."

"This, this horse," Merlin pointed at me, "has been enchanted by Nimueh."

"What do you mean, enchanted? It looks like an ordinary horse," Arthur looked concerned for Merlin's mental health.

"Look, I found this horse here, next to this bag," Merlin handed Arthur my back pack. "And then right before my very eyes, it wrote 'HELP' right there," he pointed at the sandbank.

"Merlin if I find out that you are playing some kind of elaborate prank…" Arthur began.

"Why… why would I do that?" Merlin asked seriously.

Arthur leveled his gaze, and realized Merlin was being honest. "Did you think of examining what was in the pack?"

"Uh… no…" Merlin stuttered.

"Well MAYBE it will give us a _clue _to your outrageous assumption," Arthur set the bag on the ground crankily and knelt. After a moment of struggling with the zipper, he opened it and pulled out my black dress.

It's a very simple black dress, form-fitting, flattering, and sexy. His eyes widened at the sight of it, and he quickly dropped it back in. "Clearly, it's a horse who has lost it's rider," he said conclusively. "We should search for the poor girl who has lost her bag."

"Arthur, you're wrong," Merlin cried before he could stop himself. At Arthur's angry look, he backtracked. "I mean—sire. Before you say that. It said that it saw Nimueh, and that Nimueh enchanted… her. If we can break her spell, she might tell us where Nimueh went. Ask the horse something, a yes or no question. See for yourself."

Arthur growled deep in his throat and stood. "Ugh. Fine. HORSE," he addressed me, his eyes shifting back with embarrassment to where his knights watched curiously. "Did you see Nimueh?"

I nodded emphatically.

"Did you write that message in the sand?"

I nodded again.

"I saw her do it," interjected Merlin.

Arthur was still unconvinced. "Do you know who I am?"

Hesitating, I wondered how circus horses did it. Inclining my neck forward, I stretched a foreleg out, bent the other knee, and made a make-shift bow.

"She's bowing! See! She knows you're a Prince!" Merlin said gleefully. At Arthur's murderous glare, he pinched his smile in and withheld laughter.

"Do you know what Prince's hate?" Arthur asked curtly, a wicked smile on his face.

"That's not a yes or no question, no fair," Merlin cried.

"Merlin, I swear. If you _speak _again, you'll be sent to sleep in the barns," Arthur clenched his jaw, adjusting his fist as if he were going to punch him. "Horse. Same question. Do you know what Prince's hate?"

I used my head to give him a gentle shove—which, with horse-like strength—actually knocked him right over and landed him flat out on his back. Then I laughed, which for a horse, still sounds like a cheerful kind of sound.

Merlin fought his own laughter with a "Here, let me help you up, sire," and pulled Arthur to his feet.

"Merlin," Arthur growled, "Bring this horse back with us to Camelot with us. Find some way to break this spell, so we can discover what Nimueh has against her. Then I shall kill her myself." His stern voice faded into a half-smile, and he shook his head.

"Are you going to tell your father?" Merlin asked in a hushed tone.

Arthur grew suddenly serious. "If this girl is as you say she is, a victim of magic, then she has nothing to fear. But I won't be mentioning it to him right away."

"Well—I mean—is there anything we should do, for her, now? Maybe we shouldn't stop looking for Nimueh."

"She's gone. We lost her trail hours ago," Arthur said, defeated. "It's time to go home. Bring the horse."

I pfff'd indifferently, holding my head high after snatching my backpack off the ground in my mouth. I held it there, waiting for the boys to get a move on.

Merlin looked triumphant, Arthur looked a little creeped out.

"I can carry that for you," Merlin offered kindly. I aimed my giant face towards his and placed the bag in his waiting hands.

Arthur shook himself out of his stare and turned to walk away. I followed deftly, and Merlin power-walked to keep up. _Ha! For once, in my life, I'm not the one struggling to keep up with anyone. I have the long legs, yo!_

…

But, after several miles of walking, I began to feel tired. _I'm not used to being a HORSE! _My mind sobbed. _I JUST WANT TO BE HUMAN AGAIN!_

"Tell me," Merlin said, trotting beside my face. "Was it a spell in Latin?"

I nodded drolly. This was the sixth or seventh time he had tried to start a conversation, with each one dribbling to an awkward halt because I couldn't really participate, and Merlin always stopped talking with a shrug every time a curious knight looked back at us.

"Would you be alright staying in a barn until we can figure out how to fix it?" he asked. "I'll _really _clean it for you. And you don't have to eat hay if you don't want to. I'll bring you carrots and apples."

That brightened my mood a little. I was very hungry, but couldn't bring myself to try any grass. The thought of it repulsed my brain, but my stomach seemed to say _DOOO IT!_

So I nodded, as usual. I was starting to feel like a headache with all this head-banging. I hoped Merlin would be able to fix me. After all, he IS a wizard.

"Look, we're here," Merlin said excitedly. "Ever been to Camelot before?"

I pricked my ears forward and tried to take in the turrets high above the trees ahead. I straightened up and looked at it with excitement.

"I take that as a no," laughed Merlin.

Arthur suddenly pulled out of the line, circled around, and began riding alongside Merlin. "Ride the horse," he commanded.

"EXCUSE ME?" I screeched, but it was really just an angry neigh.

"You don't want her to be obviously enchanted, make her look like she's been with us all along. Do you want my father's attention on this matter? I think it'd just be easier to avoid that." Arthur looked down at me. "I'm still unconvinced. Really. It seems too crazy. There's wild horses out there all the time—maybe this one just escaped from a theater troupe."

I whinnied indignantly.

"She clearly doesn't want to be ridden, and we haven't an extra saddle," Merlin said stiffly. "I'll just tie a rope around her neck and lead her in, if that's alright with you, Sire."

"Yes, yes, that's fine," Arthur replied, just as trumpets sounded up the road. "There's our greeting. Get that done." He went back to his place in line, and the road rounded a bend. Merlin pulled a rope from his pack, hung it loosely around my neck, and then stuffed my backpack into his. "I'll hang on to this for you, don't worry, you can trust me," he said in a hushed tone. I knew that I could, but it flooded me with a warm affection to hear it. What a sweet person… I like him even more than I liked him on TV.

We went through the great gates in the Wall of Camelot, and were now proceeding through the lower towns. People waved at the procession, but it was certainly no parade. Some people seemed to be crying with relief to see their Prince returned safely. Other people rushed forward, handing food or pitchers of water to the knights. No one gave a second glance to Merlin, or a few of the other servants that lagged behind. _How unfair, _I thought, _They were in just as much danger as the knights who were looking for the witch. _

It was a few moments before we finally reached the summit of the town, and went through the main doors into the courtyard of the palace. "Take the horse to the stables, now," Arthur said over his shoulder, walking forward to greet his father. Uther Pendragon, a very immense man in all things important, came down the stairs to speak to Arthur. I couldn't look at him for long, because Merlin tugged the rope and I had to dutifully follow along.

Into the barn we went, and Merlin placed me in a stall at the very very back, where it was the darkest and mustiest. I understood the secrecy (Uther is so bipolar on these matters!) but didn't like the smell.

Merlin perched just in front of my stall's little gate, sitting on a barrel, and held rags and polish in his lap as if waiting for something to clean.

"Ah, the life of a servant," he said to me with that irresistible, good-natured grin. Two or three more knights came in, dumped tack (saddles, bridles, and the like) at his feet—and eventually, the barn was silent and filled with horses munching on their hay happily, and Merlin worked diligently away on polishing the leather.

"So, now that everyone is gone," Merlin dropped his project and rushed for another room in the back, and came back with a small handful of three apples and four carrots. "You may feast as you please." He dumped the food in the trough for me, and I began to munch on an apple. It was weird to eat without hands, but my teeth managed to work just fine. My entire, giant, weirdly shaped jaw seemed to encompass the biggest bite of sweetness that I could wish for. How peculiar!

"Better?" he asked without a smile.

I nodded again, bumping my huge chin-nose snout thing on the trough and almost knocking it over. Merlin kept it from falling, and put a hand comfortingly on my horse-face. With a kind little stroke, he sighed and whispered, "Don't you worry, ma'am, I'll find a way to get you out of this. Will you be all right if I leave you alone for a minute?"

I nodded again, sad to see him go. He gave a nod and took off at a run, and I could only assume that his duties were important tonight and he couldn't hang around the enchanted kid for too long. Maybe this spell would just wear off? Maybe I could figure out how to talk the King's English with my horse mouth.

I opened my jaw and let out a light whinny. At least a dozen of the horses in the stable all jerked their heads up out of their hay baskets and looked towards me expectantly.

All their ears were forward, eyes alert, gaze full of anticipation. It was like I had shouted "HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT!" and then left them hanging.

A horse whinnied from somewhere down the row.

"I wish I knew what you were SAYING!" I said, which sounds more like _Whiiiiiddddddpppffffftttt. Hnhnhnh. _

The other horse neighed back, and I gave a sigh of disgust. Clearly the other horse believes that he is having a conversation with me. He could be asking for my milk money, or if I could be the mare for his fillies, for all I know.

After a time, a man came into the barn and put out the torch at the front and back doors. Eventually it was dark, except for the blue fog of the moon drifting in through the skylight. The man left the door open behind him, so a warm spring-time breeze could waft through, smelling of sweet things and ugly town realities.

I felt sleepy and anxious. I let my head lower to the ground, and finally realized that my body may be that of a horse, but my psyche needed what was human. So, I let my knees buckle slowly and I lay down. Have you ever seen a horse lay down? It's difficult stuff. They have to very nearly tuck those giant rock hooves underneath them, like a cat, till they are close enough to the ground. Then they push them out and let their body fall over to the side, stretched as if standing—except, not. I've seen horses do it when they were sick. My horse, when she died, lay down in the same manner. But stretched out on the straw, trying not to think about the bugs that were probably around, my limbs were finally able to relax and I felt a peaceful doze override my senses.

…

"_Unspanne thas maegth!" _whispered a strange voice.

I let my eyes open slowly, and searched in vain to see in the darkness.

"_Unspanne thas maegth!" _the voice said again.

Frightened, I threw my legs out, twisted my stomach to launch me upright, and scrambled to my feet. Standing at the gate was Merlin, trying to look innocent. "Hoped you were asleep," he said lightly.

I shook my head. Big, giant, horse-head, forelock waving from side to side like a JB haircut and eyes blinking away the yawn that threatened to overtake me.

"Did you, did you hear something?" Merlin asked uncertainly. _Oh, right. Still doesn't want to show off his magical skills. Duh._

I shook my head again, but found it a little harder to move than before. It was really becoming problematic, this head. It felt like my neck was sucking in its size, too immense to move but my neck seemed to wish it were a lot closer to my shoulders. Shoulders that felt weaker than before, and with a wave of nausea, my whole body felt a sickly ache and my head drooped with the weight of a headache.

"Whoa," Merlin was startled. His mouth was open wide.

"What?" I asked, half-nickering. "What's the face for?"

"You, you, you can talk," Merlin stammered, a giant smile taking over his face.

"I'm speaking? You understand me?" I said, exulted. I went to step towards him, but found that my view was steadily shrinking. I looked down and found that my forelegs were forming into arms, and my back legs were turning into my real legs. The color of my coat—that dark, brownie-chocolate-fudge color, was fading into a fast red. The hair seemed to travel until it stopped on top of my head where it belonged. The red was no longer a chestnut roan, but the red velvet of my dress. I was on my hands, and knees, on the dusty straw of a stall bottom.

"Ew," I squeaked, standing up quickly and struggling to brush the dirt from my knees. Dizzy, I tipped back over and fell on the ground again, laughing with relief and simultaneously trying to hide the tears of utter mortification.

"It must have been one of those temporary spells," Merlin said casually.

"I know what you did," I said quickly, "I didn't want to try and explain in Eques. I heard you say that counter-spell. I think it's okay." I looked up to see a face of complete fear, martyrdom, and shock on his face.

"Merlin," I said. "It's alright. I know. And I don't mind. In fact, I am INDEBTED to you." I struggled to my feet again, and clutching the gate, wobbled out of the stall and held out my hand for a shake. Merlin hesitated in taking it. He did, and shook with more fear than genteel behavior.

I leaned forward and whispered, "I won't tell. I swear on my life. You have nothing to fear from me. I can be your friend. And when I say friend, I don't mean manipulate you to do things for fear of me telling your secret. I mean real friends. I will keep mum." I put a finger to my lips and pursed them shut.

"You're the first person to know outside of my guardian since I've left home," Merlin sighed as if a great weight had gone. "And… you're welcome. But please. Forget all about it. Forget what you heard."

"Not hard at all, I already forgot what you said," I waved a hand, and let myself sink onto the barrel that he had sat on before. "So. Merlin. Did you expect me to be telling the truth?"

"I counted on it," Merlin laughed. "Otherwise Arthur would have my head!"

"No doubt," I replied.

"What is your name?" he asked curiously. "And did you really see Nimueh?"

"I am called Pippin by some communities. And yeah, I saw Nimueh. She get's all hot with anger for showing up and seeing her on the beach, so right out of a kind smile, she zaps me with a spell in Latin to make me a four-legged whinny monster. You know the rest."

"Did you see where she went?"

"She disappeared in smoke, I think," I said, shivering, and crossing my arms over my chest.

"You don't look so good. Come back to Gaius's with me." Merlin put an arm around me and we began walking out of the barn. I liked being close to him, he felt safe and warm. He was so sweet and bashful in season one… it made my heart ache to think of what he goes through in season two, with all the tragedy and love and near-misses.

"What about the polishing?" I asked.

"I do those tomorrow."

"And Arthu—Prince Arthur?"

"Well… he's going to have a fine surprise tomorrow morning when I introduce you."

...

* * *

**So, like it kids? EH? Let me know. This is SO MUCH FUN to write! And don't worry it's not a Mary Sue. I don't believe in Mary-Sue's ability to live. **


	2. Meeting the prat, the prig, the Prince

**Dear Reviewers:**

Wow! I did not expect so many of you! I'm astonished! Thank-you so much for reading and for writing prompt reviews, you guys are much too kind. I hope this chapter finds you well, full of laughter, and eager for little adventure in Camelot.

Happy reading!

Pip

**A few responses to comments/queries:**

**Minnie of the Meese: **It's been a long month away from fan fiction, but my writing is still in a process, I promise! I'm got about 10 pages written so far for my next Strange Things chapter, so rest assured, it is not forgotten. I encourage you to watch Merlin, you'd love it. Seasons one and two are on . In addition, I also watched the Helena Bonham Carter version, and thought it was really splendid. (but the show is better! Hehe!)

**Lady Courage: **Oh you'd love the show Merlin! You should definitely watch it :) I am so happy that you are enjoying my story. And trust me, I understand those weird family looks when it comes to fan fiction. Only my younger brother enjoys it as much as I do!

**Lalana-Chan: **I suppose in most instances, it is advised that one should never leave their portal open. For the sake of this story, shutting her door behind her was implied but not actually written down. I don't think we have to worry about trolls or dragons finding their way into Oregon.

**FairyPirateatTwilight: **lol, no. Jonas Brothers actually. I loathe them just about as much as the Biebs, but I liked their music when I was in high school. My tastes have changed since then haha.

**To all who have said they have not seen this show: **Let me recommend it from the bottom of my heart. Just finished season 3 yesterday, and was in awe of how incredible the show really is. If you like Narnia, Lord of the Rings, or any kind of fun-loving characters in a medieval war (their sense of humor felt like my own ) then you'd love the show.

* * *

**Chapter Two,**

**Meeting the prat, the prig, the Prince**

In Merlin's supporting arm, I walked with an understandable wobble out of the barn and into the moonlight. I gasped with delight, and at Merlin's questioning look, I added, "It's a very beautiful courtyard."

"It is," Merlin looked around, shrugging. "I suppose I'm a bit used to it."

"There aren't really any castles where I'm from," I explained, "This is my first time being to a real one."

"Really?" Merlin raised his eyebrows. "And where are you from, exactly?"

"Can I explain once we're indoors?" I asked worriedly. "It's… complicated."

"I understand complicated."

"I hope you understand _this _kind of complicated."

"People can surprise you."

"That's a loaded comment."

"I'm full of them! Half the people round here don't hear them."

"Maybe it's only because I understand the source."

"Oh _reeeally_?" Merlin stopped walking. "We've only just met."

"You saved me from being a horse forever," I said in a very hushed whisper. "It was like being handed… I don't know, the key." We resumed walking, and I began the mental brain-punting for using the first cheesy TV dialogue that came to mind. Passing under an arch and entering a cool hall, I added, "Actually, in retrospect, I simply meant I understand the origin of the phrase—your secret." Each pillar cast a shadow over our faces in a steady rhythm, and Merlin was quiet. I was afraid I had offended him for a moment.

"And you think you've unlocked me?" he asked eventually in the pattern of moonlight reflecting from the marble, as we turned right into a different hall and began up a small flight of stairs.

"Well, no," I assured quickly, "But I know more than most people here, you said so yourself."

"Only you and Gaius."

"Is he awake?"

"Of course, he's up late working on something. You'll meet him anyway, I want to make sure you're okay."

_I love the way he says okay. It's like Orkayh. Add an R to any vowel and suddenly you sound like a real Briton. _

"So do I!" I admitted with a nervous laugh. "I've never switched species before."

"Neither have I," Merlin laughed quietly.

"Pray you never do. It feels like getting your intestines drawn out through ones belly and pickled."

"Did it hurt that badly?"

"It wasn't necessarily painful. But I feel really disoriented."

"Well, here we are," Merlin adjusted his arm and opened the door, gently pushing me through it. "Gaius! Are you home?"

"Merlin," greeted an old man in long, brown robes, stepping away from a shelf full of old bottles. He had long white hair over a beardless face, piercing eyes, and eyebrows that seemed eternally crooked. He looked instantly doubtful. "Who might this be?" he asked.

"This," Merlin presented me, "was the horse."

"The one you brought back from the woods today…?" Gaius's eyebrows went farther into crookedom than I thought possible. Maybe they'd be stuck like that forever.

"Yes, but fortunately, she's better now," Merlin grinned. "Her name is Pippin."

"It is nice to meet you, Pippin," Gaius said cautiously. I held out my hand to shake his, and he kissed my hand.

"Oh, you don't need to do that," I said, embarrassed. "I'm not… royalty."

"Curious," Gaius said. "That is a very fine gown you wear. How came you by the velvet?"

"It was my grandmothers," I answered with absolute truthfulness.

"Gaius, have you already begun to put her on trial?" Merlin joked awkwardly. "I, well, I brought her here because I want to make sure she's okay. I used a spell that is meant to set maidens free from 'bondage' but I think it meant chain, or rope. Not another body, much less an enchantment into an animal."

Gaius made a very frozen, blank expression. "I do not know what you're talking about," he said, his eyes flashing like a warning sign.

"She knows," Merlin said slowly, testing the waters of Gaius's response. "And it's okay."

"I'm not going to tell anyone!" I added exuberantly. "It's, it's not just him. Something happened to me too. Can we—uh—sit down, and, talk about it?"

"You don't have to explain yourself right this minute," Merlin said frustratingly. "Gaius. Can you be a physician first, and my guardian second?"

Gaius gave him a worried look. "Very well, Merlin. I hope you know what you're doing." Turning to me, his look softened, and he held out his hand. "Why don't you sit down, my dear."

I sat on the makeshift bed at the side of the room, smoothing my dress down, noticing my backpack thrown carelessly in the corner. _Thanks a lot, Merlsy._

Gaius sat down on a stool across from me, folding his hands and listening with a critical look. "Tell me how you're feeling," he said crisply.

"Well, I feel dizzy, mostly disoriented."

"_And _she looks feverish," Merlin interjected, standing awkwardly by the table as if ready to jump in and correct me on anything.

"I know what a fever feels like. It's not a fever," I said. "I just feel really cold and shaky."

Gaius reached over, pulled a blanket up from the foot of the bed, and handed it to me. "I think the spell is just wearing off," he said quietly. "Sleep it off. You may stay here tonight. You'll be fine in the morning."

"Thank-you," I said. "And I'm sorry that," I stopped, and giggled, having said 'sorry' in a British accent but not the rest of my statement. "Your accents are beginning to wear off on me." I wrapped the blanket around me and smiled at them. "I meant to say—I'm sorry for your worry. But it is unnecessary."

"Where is your accent from?" Gaius questioned.

"Um," I hesitated. "This is the part that may be hard to believe. Promise me you two will keep an open mind."

"Wide open!" assured Merlin.

Gaius sent him a glare, and turned to me. "There are many unbelievable things in this world," he said, "I'm sure yours _won't_ be the strangest thing I've heard."

"Here goes," I mumbled. "Well—I was in my bedroo—chambers. I was in my bed chambers. My chambers, located in a very small cottage, in Oregon."

"I've never heard of Oregon," Merlin said.

"It's literally thousands upon thousands of miles away, across the ocean," I said. "Not on the mainland—far away—in the unexplored west. I only know of _this _place—Camelot—from rumors and tales." (_Literature _was a more accurate statement, but tales would suffice.)

"Fascinating," Gaius said, sitting upright.

"I was—reading a book. I heard a strange sound coming from the hall—my door was shut. When I opened my door, I should have seen a hall, leading to the other rooms. Instead, I saw a meadow. There is no magic where I come from—it's either science or religion there… to be highly unpolitically incorrect.

…So I knew right away this must be magic, packed a bag, and was determined to explore the strange woods I stepped into. And beyond that meadow was the shore of a lake, where I met a woman in red, and she introduced herself as Nimueh, and then turned me into a horse. Merlin knows the rest."

"I see," Gaius said.

"I won't tell anyone about Merlin's gift," I said pleadingly. "You can trust me. He helped me, I'd never do anything to hurt someone who has shown me kindness." (_Shown me kindness? Dang, my language is being totally awesome today._)

Knowing that I am supposed to come across as a girl who has not seen their lives on screen, I added, "Neither of you want anyone to know that Merlin has magic. May I ask why?"

"It's illegal. Found guilty of magic, and you're put to death," Merlin said, sounding a little bitter. "King Uther does not believe it can be used for good."

"Oh, I disagree with that very much," I declared. "Without it, I'd still have four legs and be eating from a trough. Not that the apples weren't delicious. Thank-you for the apples, Merlin."

"So that's where my apples went," Gaius fought a smile.

"I didn't want her to get the apples from the horse barrel," Merlin defended himself cheerfully. His smile faded, and Gaius seemed to be contemplating the far wall.

"I am as guilty as anyone," I said. "I stepped through a magical door knowing that it was probably magic. Not that there are laws against it or anything, but, according to them here. I'm just as guilty as _him. _Now you know you can trust me."

"We shall see," Gaius said, not in a rude way by any means, but obviously guarded.

I started to feel ridiculously sleepy. Suppressing a yawn, I said, "Merlin, you mentioned introducing me to Arthur tomorrow. Do we just tell him the spell wore off?"

"Exactly," Merlin smiled, looking pleased that I was catching on to the whole dishonesty thing.

"And after that?" I said nervously. "I was brought here because I asked for help. You helped. So I suppose that tomorrow I have to go back to my magical doorway… which I assume is still floating in that meadow somewhere."

"You could stay and visit for a few days," Merlin declared. At Gaius's incredulous look, he added defensively, "What?"

"Merlin, may I speak to you in private?" Gaius's tone was not to be trifled with. "Do excuse us, dear," he said to me politely, standing and ushering Merlin into his bedroom. The door slammed shut, and though I could not hear the words they spoke, I could hear the tones and emotions. Frustration, a little added volume. Defensive, pleading. Sympathetic, but firm. Agreeing to disagree.

I looked around, hiding a bored expression. Gaius's chambers were really intriguing. It was as if the clutter of a medicine cabinet met the respectful awe of Severus Snape's classroom. Yawning again, this time the yawn being so huge that it seemed to rip my consciousness in half, I pulled my feet up into the blanket, curled into a little ball, and put my head on the rough pillow that smelled of alfalfa.

Before I can fall asleep, my brain does something similar to channel surfing. Thousands of images scroll by from the things I've thought about, movies, friends, social networking, school, to-do-lists, and other random things. One by one they all seem to shut down until my mind's eye sees nothing but black. Then I drift into something I like to call the void… a soft sleep that actually isn't sleeping but almost feels like it is. It's at this point I usually fade into a deep sleep, or, I start dreaming and might as well give up feeling "rested" in the morning.

"I want her to sleep in your chambers," Gaius's voice broke into the void like a sledgehammer to my ear. "That way we shall hear her if she gets up in the middle of the night."

"Very well," Merlin said irritably. "I still think we worry over nothing. Look! She's asleep already."

I tried to tell them otherwise, but my face was literally stuck in the blissful concentration of sleep. _Hmm… _So I sat up, eyes still shut, mumbled something like "Mkay…" and stumbled over towards the door they had come from. Shutting the door behind me to a droll chorus of "Goodnight!" I struggled to pull off my boots, slipped out of the dress, and dived headfirst into the bed. _Remind me never to get cursed again. It makes me so dang tired. _

When I opened my eyes again, sunlight streamed through the window to create a hot patch of square light on the floor, while the rest of the room felt warm and dizzy. I sat up too quickly, almost forgetting where I was.

I was astounded to find that I hadn't just woken up in my own room, in my own world. But this wasn't dreaming, it was _fiffing, _and that makes all the difference, doesn't it?

My backpack was placed by the bed sometime during the night. _Awkward. _I pulled out my black dress and slipped it over my shoulders, tugging it till it's very long hem trailed on the ground. (I'm too short for any dress to do less.)

I pulled my toothbrush and toothpaste out, went over to a washbasin and pitcher on a stand in the corner, and haphazardly brushed my teeth. I spit into the wastebasket in the corner. Then I washed my face and debated putting on makeup. I compromised with cover-up on the tiny zit on my forehead, some face powder, but left everything else off. Why go all Morgana crazy with my make-up? This is medieval times! Clear, pale complexions were the fashions of the day. This was before tanning and eye-goop was cool.

I opened the door of Merlin's room and looked out into the main room. Gaius was up and rummaging around the room, Merlin was nowhere to be seen.

"Ah! There you are," Gaius motioned me in. "You're up early."

"Am I?"

"It's only seven just now."

"Oh. The sun woke me up. Where is Merlin?"

"Well, he thought you wouldn't be up for quite some time. He went to wake Prince Arthur and take care of his morning duties. He planned on eating breakfast with you after. I have some porridge here for you now, if you'd like it."

"I'll wait for Merlin, if you don't mind?" I sat at the table. Truth was, I hated porridge but was too polite to refuse, but I thought I'd at least postpone it. "I don't want to disrupt his plan."

"Seems he's quite fond of you," Gaius's eyebrows were doing the crazy dance.

"He's so sweet."

"But he revealed his secret to you. That's a very great trust to place in someone so early."

"He thought I was sleeping. I don't think he meant to. Lucky for him I don't have any greater motivation being here than an accident. If I were some great enemy of Camelot or something…"

"Yes, lucky him," Gaius said in a critical tone.

"I'm not one of those characters who turns out to be the bad guy at the end of the story," I said seriously. "I'll be trying to prove that for as long as I'm here I suppose."

"The proof would put my mind at ease, but there is no proof that can be permanent. People can surprise you."

I chewed my lower lip. "Boy, do I understand _that._"

"At least accept this cup of tea," Gaius handed me a tumbler.

"Gladly. And thank-you." I sipped it. "Ah—chamomile?"

"And dandelion."

"I heard dandelion made terrible tea, but this is good."

"Trust me, it would be terrible without the chamomile."

"Do you put sugar in?"

"Never."

"I love it. What other kinds of tea do you like?"

Gaius gave me a funny look. I swear, its like his eyebrows are trying to escape from his head and run away to China. "Well, tea from peppermint leaves, sage, and a little bit of chocolate imported from the monasteries in France."

"That sounds amazing!"

"It's a delicacy. A gift from King Uther when I turned sixty. The jar lasted for a year or so."

I drank my tea in thought. If I could try making that myself when I got home…

At a giant crash and shout at the front door, I jumped and nearly spilt my tea. Gaius calmly turned and observed the interruption.

"I SWEAR!" Merlin, with a shout, threw open the door and barreled in, slamming it behind him and storming in with hair askew and face dripping. "If that _prat _of a Prince doesn't mature someday—I'll, I'll—" he was pacing in a circle. "I'll dump a bucket of water on HIS face. I swear. I WILL! Even if he hangs me! I'll say—_Sire! I'm glad you are hanging me! I won't have to serve your fat backside any longer!_ OH!" Merlin slumped down at the table, on the opposite side of me, and slammed his head on his arms, hiding his face. "I give up. _I. Give. Up."_

There was a long silence. I gulped in a giant guffaw of laughter, reminding myself I wasn't just an audience anymore.

"I'm sure it's not worth getting a short drop and a sudden stop," I said, patting his arm tentatively. At Gaius's confused look, I mimed Mr. Gibbs, who in turn was miming getting hung by a noose.

"Gaius! Fetch me a rope!" Merlin roared.

Gaius planted a steaming bowl of porridge in front of him, and then handed one to me. "Eat your breakfast, you two. And then go somewhere else—I have medicine to prepare today. I have at least five customers coming in today who need a new month's supply."

Merlin set to his porridge with annoyed clatter, staring into his bowl with boyish anger emanating from him like a cloud.

I tentatively ate my porridge, loving the smell, hating everything else. I swallowed chunks of it whole so that I wouldn't taste it. It's like soup. Bread soup. With soggy milk and oats that make me want to throw up. _Eeeew._

But, being the actress that I am, I smiled as I ate, not wishing to betray the picky eater that I am.

Merlin glanced up and actually looked at me for the first time in the morning, with a sheepish smile. "I'm, uh, usually much more patient with him."

"Like a saint," I assured.

"He was very trying today."

"Like a prig."

"He dumped a bucket of his bathwater on my _head._"

"Tasteless joke!"

"And then he called me an… an… arse."

I gasped with mock offense. "The… the… the NERVE."

"And then he didn't even ask about you."

"You're right—what a prat! I could have died as a four legged creature from bad alfalfa in his barn, and he'd never know."

"When I told him you were pretty, he said 'I highly doubt she would've changed into a horse then'."

"Oh, he's such a…" I stopped and blushed. "You told him I was pretty?"

"Well, he, well, I told him the spell wore off last night after his insensitive silence on the subject. He asked what you looked like—I said pretty—and then he threw it in my _face. _When I told him that just because he only has eyes for—well. It got heated for other reasons." He pointed at his dripping hair. "Then the bathwater." He returned to his porridge with gusto.

_If I turn into a Mary Sue, I'll dispose of MYSELF. And explode in showers of pink glitter. May my hair never shine nor my eyes sparkle with that mysterious radiance that draws in fictional boys. And if they do may I die and die quickly before there is damage. _

"Have you got something on your mind?"

"I'd like to meet Prince Arthur. I have a few things to say to him."

"Hopefully not on my account."

"Actually, no. He's offended me all by himself."

…

Gaius's eyebrows were doing the tango as Merlin dumped our half-finished bowls of porridge in the sink, hollered, "See you later, Gaius!" and led me quickly out of the chambers. He slammed the door on the tail end of my "Thank-you so much for the breakfast and the tea and our ta—"

We trotted down the hall. I held my skirt in my hands, trying to keep the hem around my ankles, and took at least three large steps to his long ones. "Must, we, run, so, quickly?" I asked.

"We're walking!" laughed Merlin.

"I'm _short," _I whined. "Just… don't make me meet Arthur with a heated face and sweat on my… brow." I giggled.

"Okay, okay, I'm used to being in a hurry," Merlin slowed down, and walked exaggeratedly, like one might in a museum admiring paintings. He clasped his arms behind his back and floated by my side with a casual hum.

"You mock me, sir," I joked.

"How easily my walk offends you! Too fast, or too slow?"

"Neither. Too weird."

"How old are you?"

"Almost twenty-one."

"I wouldn't have guessed that."

"I know!" I squished up my nose. "No one does! And you?"

"Guess."

_In a land of myth, and a time of magic, the destiny of great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young boy… _Boy, huh?

"Fifteen."

"Oh really!" Merlin sighed.

"Sixteen."

"You're going to have to do better than that!"

"Twenty?"

Merlin just shook his head and walked a little faster.

"Eighty, then. It's the only other option."

"Clearly. I am eighty years old and I've never felt better."

"The decades have been good to you," I laughed.

We now went through a hall that passed by great doors to the throne room, out the main entry of the palace, and into the wide courtyard.

"Looks bigger in daylight," I mused. "Where is Arthur, exactly?"

"He is out on the green, overseeing some training for young knights-to-be."

"I thought becoming a knight had to be by blood or family?"

"Many nobleman's have sent their young sons here to train," Merlin explained. "They'll be properly knighted after years of work."

"Have you ever wanted to be a knight?"

"Goodness, no. I couldn't even _begin_ to equal the amount of courage it takes to be a dumb brute like—_Arthur_!" his tone changed drastically to a higher pitch of greeting, grimacing at his own voice crack and grinning with a guilty expression.

"Merlin," Arthur smirked. "I see you've dried yourself off nicely. Now see, that wasn't so harmful, was it? In fact I think it was a very useful illustration. We may have to revisit it again."

Merlin's smile faded to a staged smile of pleased annoyance. "Anything to help _Your Highness,_" then he coughed. "Prat."

"What was that?" Arthur growled loudly, walking closer, not even noticing me.

"I said, 'Perhaps'," corrected Merlin with his never-ending smile. "I should introduce you to _Pippin._"

"Your Majesty," I said in a warm, misleading voice, dropping down in a curtsey. "It is a pleasure to see you."

"Uh—how do you do," Arthur said confusedly. "Welcome to Camelot. Merlin, who…"

"Maybe this will jog your memory," I smiled demurely, cleared my throat, and put on my best posh Arthur voice. "_Merlin, ride the horse!_ …sound familiar?"

Arthur's face was indescribably hilariously shocked. "You—you—you're the—it's true?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Oh, it's true all right. And a very inappropriate way to treat a poor stranger blamelessly enchanted by an evil sorceress."

Arthur was clearly stumbling through his brain with ideas of how to apologize correctly. "I, I didn't think—(clears throat)—well, uh, perhaps… you'll let me make—amends, somehow."

Merlin was laughing.

I smiled. "You could just say you're sorry."

"I could have you arrested for speaking with such, such, cheek," scoffed Arthur arrogantly.

"But then you'd have to say sorry twice," I replied.

At Arthur's incredulous look, I finally laughed. "Your Highness, I'm having a little fun at your expense. _I'm _sorry."

Arthur smiled hesitantly back.

"Now it's your turn, Sire," I added.

"I apologize for my—crude treatment while you were enchanted," Arthur was over thinking this way too much. "And please accept my invitation to dine with me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," I smiled apologetically. "I appreciate your offer and thank you for it. I may be a descendant of a knight but I'm definitely not royal. I do believe there are rules that do not permit me to sit at the same table."

"Ah—well, yes, but sometimes status doesn't matter all that much," Arthur got a far away look in his eye for a moment, and Merlin and I glanced at each other. _Dude, it may not be season two yet, but he's definitely got a thing cooking for Gwen already._

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that," I said.

"Not me!" Merlin declared. "I'm going to remind you of that next time you try to douse me!"

"Oh, shut up, Merlin," Arthur snapped back.

I let out a loud laugh, and at their incredulous looks, I bit my lip and pretended that it wasn't the thousandth time I had heard the phrase and had even searched for a youtube video that had them all compiled together.

My laugh shifted into something more appropriate and subtle. "Well, your Majesty, I don't want to keep you from your work."

"Rather." Arthur looked with some boredom to the green. "They are just practicing their swing. It isn't nothing I can't miss. Anyhow, you are a guest of Camelot now. I should see to you."

"Thank-you, sire."

"You said you were a descendent from a knight. What knight, may I ask?"

Merlin looked at me, eyebrows cocked, wondering if I had just made it up.

"Remember what I told you, about where I come from, Merlin?" I said, to assure him I wasn't just turning into a tale-teller. "Well, my grandparents' parents came from _this _side of the world. My grandfather's a Cobb—and we traced some heritage back to _Sir Richard Cobb, _a knight." I shrugged. "Don't really know anything else, though."

"Well, then, my father can have nothing to say about you sitting at the table tonight," Arthur declared. In a whisper, he added, "Perhaps tell him it is _your father _who is the knight, and not your ancient family line."

"But my father isn't a knight," I protested. "He is a baker, and a musician. It's one thing to be a commoner, and another thing to lie to the King himself. I don't want to do that."

"As you should!" said a voice, startling Merlin and Arthur into undignified bows. I turned slowly and found Uther standing behind me with a pleased smile.

"Your Highness," I said respectfully, curtseying again, but for some odd reason my insides suddenly lurched in a physically sick fear.

"Arthur—maybe you should learn from the wisdom of our visitor?" Uther said coolly. "Who do I have pleasure of talking to?" he looked at Arthur pointedly.

"Oh, yes, um, may I present Lady Pippin—poor thing had a bit of a scare with Nimueh in the forest, so we brought her back here," Arthur fibbed wonderfully, giving me a concentrated look. He didn't know that Merlin and I had already thought it best to keep the horse-part under the rug.

"Yes sire," I said. "He was very kind to me, but I deeply regret that I could not have given him a better clue to her whereabouts. Saw her only briefly, and now I can only feel badly about hindering their search."

Uther replied cordially, "Alas, that is what comes to a woman wandering alone on her own—must have a knight to save her from sorceresses!"

I fought to keep my habit of being a bit feminist down. Instead, I chuckled as if I was just some poor dumb female, and agreed with, "You are right, sire. My lesson has certainly been learned." _Should I get a manipulators award? Probably not. A slap, more likely. _

"Fortunately, no harm done to you," Uther smiled. _Geez—he's treating me like Morgana or something. Does he just have a soft spot for girls who lie all the time? _"Pray, tell me where you are from?"

Merlin blanched.

"Across the sea," I said honestly.

Uther looked a little suspicious. "How come you to travel alone for so far? I thought perhaps you came from another city."

"Father, she is tired, perhaps we could discuss it over dinner? I have invited her to dine with us," Arthur interjected quickly. "She has had a _very _difficult journey. Traumatic actually. I'm sure with some rest, and food and drink, she'll be quite willing to tell you more—wouldn't you, Lady Pippin?"

Merlin and I stared at him in a complete transfix.

"Yes," I snapped out of it, looking to Uther, and gave him my most winning smile. "Sire, it is a very long story. With your permission, all will be revealed at supper."

Uther nodded. "Absolutely understandable. I look forward to our discourse." With a curt nod to Arthur, the three of us bowed as he turned on heal and marched away, his cloak billowing out behind him.

"Phew," Merlin breathed when he was out of earshot.

"What the blazes am I supposed to SAY?" I snapped at Arthur. "I was going to tell him the _truth._"

"Which is?" Arthur said coldly.

I paled, realizing I hadn't actually told _him _what happened.

"What REALLY happened in those woods?" Arthur pressed. "I could see you were struggling and went out on a limb for you. Now let's hear the real thing, so that we can come up with a convincing story for dinner, Lady Pippin. Or should I even call you that?"

"Well, like I told you before, I'm a _descendant _of a knight. Calling me 'lady' like I'm a noblewoman was _entirely _your idea," I said hotly. "Uther _heard _me say that my father was a commoner. So why not stick to the real story?"

"Which IS, blast it?" Arthur asked again, almost angrily. "You still haven't told _me _how you came to be a _horse._"

"You want to know the story?" I said, peeved. Merlin's eyes shifted strangely, as if whispering _no. _

"Maybe we should…" he began.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur snapped.

I glared at Arthur, deeply offended at how he treated Merlin. It's one thing to see on screen. It's another to hear it so often in person.

Arthur sighed in frustration. "Merlin. You were saying?"

"Maybe we should do this indoors," Merlin said timidly, with a half-smile and giggle stuck in his throat. "Might be—better?"

"No, this is fine," I said stiffly. "_Prince _Arthur. I was sitting in my bed chambers. Across the sea—in lands that your people have yet to explore. I've heard of Camelot in stories and tales _only. _I opened my door yesterday, to find a strange forest, instead of the hall. I stepped through that door and met Nimueh."

"So, it was magic," whispered Arthur with horror.

"Perhaps. I believe I'm the victim of some trick," I shrugged, and Merlin nodded vehemently at my lie. "Who has ever heard of magic that will transport a girl from her home into a forest across the sea? That's dark stuff. While it's incredible to be here—the reason for how it came about makes me misplaced and rather angry at the injustice of it." _Total lie. Wow. God forgive my foul mouth today._

"You are a lucky, lucky girl for having survived such dark sorcery," Arthur said scoldingly. "Perhaps next time you'd think twice before going through such a door."

"If there is a next time," I said lightly. "Who is to say that I will ever go home? What if I am stuck here?"

Arthur leaned close and said reassuringly, "I promise you, I will get you home somehow."

I was half-tempted to look to the sky and cry, _O writers of great television shows—how quickly these characters are loyal to complete strangers! It is not very believable!_

But I said nothing, and only nodded. "So what about tonight. It's the truth, you know. Found something curious and didn't _think _for a moment that it was going to be dark magic." _That's because it's NOT dark magic—it's FIFFING you idiot!_

"I see you were made a fool by the guise of a curiosity which turned into a spell, and then a horrible enchantment by Nimueh," Arthur said, with a sigh. "But my father may not see it that way. In fact, he may even think _you're _a sorceress yourself."

"But she is NOT," Merlin spoke out of turn, with a protective kind of tone.

"God, Merlin, I _know _that," Arthur said. "No _offense, Pippin, _but you don't seem the type to be—well—cunning enough to be a sorceress."

Merlin suddenly looked quite thoughtful.

"Agreed!" I said without hesitation. "Now what about that dinner?"

"Here's what we'll do," Arthur leaned in close, and began to whisper. My eyes widened, and when Merlin leaned in, he immediately started laughing. Arthur shoved him out of the huddle, only to have him lean back in, casually inserting suggestions which Arthur agreed with, but only restated them so that they appeared to be ideas of his own.

"Perfect," Arthur concluded.

"We're going to hell in a handbasket," I corrected. _And one mustn't tell lies!_

* * *

**Hey guys! Thanks for your patience! I've been working on this chapter a little bit every other week for positively ages! Thanks for sticking around. Hope you enjoy! **

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